


unholy act

by lacedwithlilacs



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 03:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacedwithlilacs/pseuds/lacedwithlilacs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras asks Grantaire to come to his apartment in the middle of the Musain with the sole intention of a night full of sex, beginning with a thorough blow job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unholy act

Grantaire fears when Enjolras comes over to him at the Musain stands above his table and looks down with his head held high. No one else seems to notice this though; Combeferre is busy debriefing both Courfeyrac and Marius on a task, Joly, Feuilly, Bahorel, and Bossuet are busy drinking together, and Jehan is at his own table writing poetry. Enjolras bends over at the waist, his arms crossed tight over his chest and the ribbon of his hair falling from over his shoulder as he leans in close. "If you are free, I'd like to request something of you tonight."

Grantaire's body clenches and he feels his heart begin to race with more than just the wine. He straightens his back and looks around once more. Enjolras speaks softly and he knows no one else heard him, no one will know what Enjolras is even speaking about, but Grantaire's stomach still seizes in his gut. "Anything. I'll black your boots."

Enjolras shakes his head and the strand of soft hair spilling out from his tie brushes Grantaire's cheek. "No no," he says simply, "I have a more unholy act to request." Enjolras still speaks in his proud voice and Grantaire feels his cock stirring from the words alone.

"It is not like you to beat around the bush Enjolras," Grantaire teases and immediately scolds himself for possibly ruining his chances with his teasing. "Tell me what you'd like in specific. No one is paying attention." Grantaire lowers his voice himself and he isn't sure he's even loud enough for Enjolras to hear him anymore.

Enjolras tosses his hair over to his other shoulder and takes a quick look around the other Amis. They are not paying attention in the slightest, none of them even looking like they were at all interested. "I wish to have you in my mouth," Enjolras whispers and Grantaire has to strain to hear. "To suck you until you reach your peak. Is that what you were looking for _Grantaire_?" Grantaire's name is bitter and heavy on Enjolras' but there's a layer of lust buried deep beneath that.

"Yes," Grantaire confirms and nods decisively. "When?"

"Now."

Grantaire blinks and Enjolras pulls back from so close to his ear. Enjolras' face is stern and hard and demanding. Grantaire's cock stirs again and his pants are becoming far too tight. Grantaire nods again, this time a bit more confused as Enjolras stands up straight again. With the deft flick of his wrist, Enjolras tosses the tie of hair over to his back again. He walks over to the table with Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Marius and takes his thin, grey jacket off of the chair. "I am retiring for the night men."

Combeferre nods without even looking up. No one even notices as Grantaire slips out the door, directly behind Enjolras. The street is cool against their cheeks, but it is warm enough that they do not shiver. Grantaire is almost amused at how easy it was to slip out of the Musain without so much as the raising of eyebrows. He turns to Enjolras to comment when Enjolras speaks instead. "I hope you are not ashamed by my request."

"I would never."

Enjolras averts his eyes from Grantaire's gaze and almost looks embarrassed, but Grantaire has never seen that sort of emotion come from Enjolras. "I have been thinking of you as of late. It's been a while since we were last together." It has been nearly three weeks since Grantaire found himself pushing Enjolras down on his bed with kisses.

"I would never want to be a burden to you. I can contain myself well enough." Enjolras crinkles his nose and Grantaire can tell it's not the answer he was looking for.

The rest of the walk is silent and Grantaire realizes that he knows this route too well already. They climb the stairs to Enjolras' apartment and step into his foyer, pulling off their jackets. Enjolras sheds his jacket first, undoes his tie and begins opening the buttons on his shirt. "Come Grantaire, let's not waste time. We only have so many hours until morning." Grantaire is almost surprised by Enjolras' words and the idea that perhaps Enjolras wants more than just a quick fuck.

Grantaire begins undoing his jacket, vest and shirt in a haze of undressing, his eyes watching as Enjolras strips himself. No matter how many times he has sat here and watched as Enjolras' skin became more and more visible, even when it was beneath his very lips, it was always beautiful. Like watching a butterfly emerge from its cocoon, Enjolras seemed to come alive as he revealed more of himself.

Enjolras finishes pulling his clothes off, collecting them in a pile in the front foyer, and makes his way over towards Grantaire, his golden eyebrows knitting together in frustration. "Grantaire," he says testily as he begins undoing Grantaire's pants for him. Grantaire reaches out, wrapping his arms around the small of Enjolras' back and pulls him close. Enjolras' hands are pressed flat against Grantaire's thigh in the confinement.

"You must be patient," Grantaire chides and leans in, pressing a firm, needy kiss to Enjolras' lips. Enjolras stills in his arms, ceases struggling until Grantaire loosens his grip. Enjolras' hands return to their work, but slower, less calculated now. They pull apart from the kisses and Grantaire allows Enjolras back to his work.

Enjolras pulls the trousers free and lets the fabric pool around Grantaire's ankles, still covered with stockings. Grantaire steps back, kicks them away and into the lump of clothing, and toes his socks off before he comes to stand in front of Enjolras once again. Enjolras' plump, red lips curve into a soft smile and he immediately leans in, kissing at Grantaire's jawline.

He proceeds to drop to his knees, the sound of the skin hitting the floor dull in the small foyer. Enjolras has pushed Grantaire up against the door, his back cooled by the wood as Enjolras noses at his cock. Enjolras wraps his hand around Grantaire's half hardened member, stroking with sure, determined flicks of his wrist. He has long memorized the fastest way to arouse Grantaire and the usage of all the tactics at once makes Grantaire's hips buck involuntarily.

Grantaire stares down at Enjolras, reaching and slipping the ribbon in Enjolras' hair out; lets the warm, tousled waves fall down over Enjolras' back. He cards his fingers through, letting the hair cascade over his shoulders as Enjolras looks back up at him. They lock eyes, browns to stunning blues, and Grantaire swallows down a groan as Enjolras takes the head into his mouth. Enjolras' blue eyes flutter closed and his face looks peaceful for once, his eyelashes splaying out across his pale cheeks.

Grantaire knows soon he will be unable to appreciate Enjolras' beauty, that soon he will be lost to the pleasures of Enjolras' mouth. Enjolras was a quick study and he had taken little time before he knew the best ways to make Grantaire moan out obscenities. Enjolras swallows around him, once, before he pushes forward and takes Grantaire in completely. He has wanted this badly, Grantaire can tell from the determined movements of his mouth and hand.

Enjolras brings his hand up, pressing against the inner of Grantaire's thigh and holding him in place as Enjolras pulls up. As the head reaches the inners of Enjolras' lips, he slides back down again, this time fuller. "Devil," Grantaire moans out as he brings his hand to rest delicately in Enjolras' hair, barely twirling around the soft locks. Enjolras' eyes open up at the name and he looks up, his eyes black and wide with desire. The wild look in Enjolras' eyes are all the confirmation that Grantaire needs.

Enjolras' grip on Grantaire's inner thigh lightens and soon, he slows his pace of his head. Enjolras looks up at him again, this time with the softest nod that Grantaire feels more than he sees. Grantaire tightens his grip on Enjolras' hair and begins in, his hips cautious at first. Enjolras takes him with grace, lets Grantaire hit the back of his throat with the head and doesn't even pull back. He doesn't make a single noise beyond the groans that Grantaire feels, vibrating against his cock. Enjolras is needy, wanting and ready for Grantaire and he can feel it as he continues to thrust his cock deep into Enjolras' mouth.

The hand pressed gently against Grantaire's hip slides down and reaches around, pulling Grantaire closer into him and guiding him. He pushes himself further still, until the back of his throat opens up and Grantaire feels himself sliding down the impossible tightness. Enjolras moans again, this time the feeling running both up and down Grantaire's entire body until he's almost gone senseless.

"I cannot hold on any longer," Grantaire says choppily, in at least three different attempts until Enjolras looks up at him again. Enjolras' eyes beg him to come, urge him to spill into the wet heat that is Enjolras' mouth.

He lets himself go then, lets his eyes screw shut as he comes down Enjolras' throat. Enjolras swallows everything perfectly, sucks until Grantaire cannot feel any bones in his body and then pulls off. Grantaire's breaths are sharp and quick and his vision is still spotted with after images of stars.

Beneath him, Enjolras sits on the backs of his calves, his lips red and thoroughly used. He looks debauched and Grantaire wishes he could always make Enjolras this way. He wants his paints, to capture the image for all to see forever. To make everyone wish they could see Enjolras the way he does at this very moment. Instead, he bends over as best he can, still using the door as a prop to keep his jellied limbs from crumpling to the ground.

He brings Enjolras to stand in front of him, takes him in hand and strokes him. There is no teasing or any sort of technique, because he can see how badly Enjolras needs this. It is only a few sharp twists of his wrists until Enjolras is leaning forward, curling in on himself and coming over Grantaire's hand and lower belly.

If it were possible, Enjolras looks better now than a moment before. Grantaire wishes he were Prouvaire, so he could capture with words the way that Enjolras' eyes glow immediately after an orgasm, because he knows he could not possibly execute such beauty in painting. Enjolras breathes heavily, his chest heaving and Grantaire cleans his hand off with his tongue. "Come," he says ignoring the remnants left on his stomach, "Let us make our way to your bedroom."


End file.
